DON'T SCARE THE WILDLIFE

The only places open in C'town beyond nine o'clock are three or four establishments that serve alcoholic beverages, and the bubble-tea bars.
For the late night wanderer, who decides ah screw it I don't really want to go to bed this early, instead I'll take a long walk and smoke my pipe, this presents a problem.

Not a single one of those bubble-tea bars serves real coffee, or milk-tea made with tea leaves and condensed milk. An adult craves caffeine.
A grown-up beverage.


Bubble-tea is made with fruity powder mixes, water and ice, and tapioca pearls. One can, for instance, order a medium-sweet cantaloupe and passion-fruit combo over ice, with big gloppy tapioca pearls, grass jelly, fruit pieces, and pudding slivers.


The other problem is the clientele. They are young. One cannot have a conversation with people of that age, and it is ridiculous and quite suspect to even try. Youthful American Chinese are skittish and often innocent and silly. Which, I suppose, is charming in its own way, but they lack any and all significant life experiences.


After finishing my pipe I wanted something refreshing, but I did not want to hang around the bubble tea lounge, and I felt absurd walking around in the dark with my beverage. I didn't throw it away, because that would have been wasteful, and possibly I could still use it to confound an assailant.
Throw it at them, I suppose. They'd look stupid with tapioca and pudding dripping down their front.


Large tapioca pearls are nearly indigestible.

Next time grass jelly only.




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